Fifteen Years
by Ashia Yifei 07
Summary: "Ryoma, for how many years have you loved me now?" " It's a nine-year difference, dude." - Sakuno


**I was actually thinking if this could be a possible sequel to my story, 'Gestures of Reassurance' but no, they're different. I've got better plans for that. ;)**

**I'm bored and I'm depressed. Please, bear with me.**

* * *

><p>Three words. I miss him.<p>

It's still hard for me to cope with our lifestyle as a celebrated couple. Being together should do it, but I'm never contented. No one can question my reason, though. Echizen Ryoma, the worldly renowned tennis professional player, is married and is now my husband.

I think every wife understands the state I'm in because even a short absence of the one you love and the one you've always dreamt to be together with will bring you distinguished pain and longing for him every painstaking minute of your lonely hours.

But anyway I'm not complaining. I'm not planning to begin a fight with him. I'm even in the process of quelling the idea of asking him to quit his career. For of all the persons he has grown attachment with, it is most especially I who will never let him down and leave him behind on his journey of attaining his dreams. And strangely as it sounds, I don't mind being put aside if it means nothing less than his well-achieved success.

Still, only for now, I cry. I miss him badly. It has been almost a year since we got married after a series of rejection, pain and finally realization and love. And I only get to see him twice or thrice every month because of his tournaments all around the world. We can't even start making our own family, not that I'm very eager to, but I really need to see him and feel his arms again.

I'm making myself comfortable by hugging the plush pillow he gave me when he proposed. Yes, he bought me a ring and this pillow. I asked him why there was a need for a pillow, and he said that it was for me not to miss him whenever he's not by my side, or as he said, if I was desperate enough to hug him, I could practically pretend that the pillow is he in person. But seriously, what I need is flesh not some kind of feathers.

I'm also weighing my options whether I'll watch a drama that Tomoka has pleaded for me to see to co-sympathize for the characters or read a tragic novel that I recently bought from a bookstore because of the enigmatic cover photo , but whichever I plan on doing will just get me more depressed.

Suddenly, I think of reaching for the photo albums residing on top of a rack. Refreshing myself with the photos of him might help me alleviate the agony I'm suffering. It will also help me not to forget the particular features on his face in his sundry attitudes. Now, I'm going insane. Someone save me now.

And just as I mentally think it out loud, a knock seeps through the secluded atmosphere I've unconsciously created. I'm reluctant to even give a response, knowing it's not Ryoma who will meet me behind that closed door. But whoever that is, I don't want to give him the impression that Ryoma's wife would be so unwelcoming in entertaining visitors. Never will I do anything that will corrupt my husband's image.

After a few more persistent knockings, I jump off the sofa and straighten my hair with my hands for I don't see any brush near me. I twist the knob and answer, " Yes?"

It's Ryoma. My Ryoma.

" Missed me?" he mocks.

I see that he's grown much taller and more handsome. His hair has grown longer and messier, too, but it's brilliant ebony is still glowing even in the absence of light to illuminate on it. His face is still impeccably masked with coolness. And his golden orbs still never fail in captivating me especially now that they are deeply staring into mine.

Without a notice, I feel that my eyes allow a few beads of tears to roll down my face as I come closer to him and hug him. I hug him even tighter when he doesn't seem to even flinch. I want his arms to wrap around me, too. I long for this warmth and there's no way I'm gonna let this minute pass without even receiving my reward for silently waiting for three months.

" So much," I whisper but I'm sure the loudness is enough for him to hear. Anyway, I know he feels how my heart beats rapidly and then gradually takes on a serene pace.

He finally gives what I want.

" Don't you worry now. I'll stay 'til the end of the month. I know it's not that long but compared with the previous months, this is better, right? I'll try to make it up to you. Or do you want me to quit now?" his voice is so comforting, and I wish we would always stay like this. However, for now I'm fully aware that this is all temporary.

I consider his offer of his quitting tennis if I give my consent. It's actually quite tempting to say yes. However, I don't want him to regret doing that later on. I do not mean he will literally regret it for I know he really is willing to quit if it's for me. But the thing is, I don't want him to feel the emptiness that I can't possibly fulfill, that only his playing tennis can. I don't want to lock him in because of our marriage. As his wife, I still care for his happiness… the happiness that is beyond my circle of influence.

I distance myself from him and cup his cheeks.

" Of course, not. Trust me. I want you to be what you want to be. I'm not in the position to dictate you the things you should do just because I'm your wife. And a more realistic reason? Letting you do what you want is a part of my love for you," I blush and turn away. I know he really doesn't want cheesy lines like this. We've never even said the concrete 'I love you' to each other yet. But it can't be helped, right?

To break the awkwardly romantic atmosphere, I add, " Are you serious about your making it up to me?"

He smiles and leans in. " Thank you. And yes, I'm serious about it. Why? Have something in mind?"

Now, it's my turn to smirk.

" Yes. Just wait, and you'll see."

* * *

><p>I want us to go on a date.<p>

Okay, that sounds so childish considering my age, 27 years old, and status, married. But the last time we had our date was when he proposed. That wasn't even counted as a date because it was more like an ambushed event. I was just dragged there by my Grandma because I decided to reject Ryoma's invitation suspecting he could just be fooling around with me. Why did I have such a thought? Because we had a fight. There was already something between us back then, but he denied it. And all of his fanclubs thought I was a fangirl gone lunatic for claiming his surreal love for me.

The matter was settled when he told me he was just being protective of me, and that he would become much worse, being possessive of me once he declared that we were official.

Also, I want to go on a date not only because of wanting to have a romantic dinner with him, but also because I want us to talk about our future…about whatever things included in our future.

Even if he says he'll do anything to do some catching up with the times we've lost together, I know he'll readily disagree with this absurd idea, as he might put it.

I've always known he's not that much of an amorous person who will bother to prepare some strategies that will sweep me off my feet. The dates we had back then were nothing more than two friends grabbing hamburgers in a fast food chain. The last date we had was not that romantic either. Compared to the ideal setting with violinists around and with the wedding ring hidden somewhere, his proposal was really nothing with a sub-zero statement ' _You'll never have the chance to be with me again, if you dare to say no right now'. _But it means everything to me.

Now, going back to my dilemma. I need to think of a way to make him say yes.

…

And now I know.

* * *

><p>Ryoma's taking a catnap in the couch when I pinch both of his cheeks. He lazily opens his eyes, and when he does, I stretch out his cheeks even more until he voluntarily stands up.<p>

" Sakuno, since when have you taken interest of my cheeks?" he says while rubbing his cheeks. And I must say, they're indeed reddish.

I chuckle. Seeing that my laugh doesn't change the cold expressions he bears on his face, I tiptoe and kiss him lightly on his cheeks.

And then he radiates a warm smile.

" There. I feel better," he says as if reassuring me not to feel bad about it anymore.

" Ah, Ryoma? Do you want to play a game? You know, you've been gone for so long, and I just want to make you feel relaxed while you're still on vacation, and – "

" Oh. Sounds great. Good thing you asked. I've been meaning to," he smirks and comes closer.

I'm rather confused by what he means, and then it hits me. I blush madly.

I automatically shove him away and take a step back.

" Ah…no…no, Ryoma. That's not what I meant," I look down in tights of embarrassment.

I hear him giggling. " I know. You're too innocent to ask me about that. So, what's with the game?"

" We do random things and compete. Whoever loses shall follow whatever the winner desires. Get it?" I smile vibrantly, secretly hoping that he doesn't get to see what I'm really aiming at.

" Fine. Shall I give the first challenge, then? See, if you'll be the one to give it, it'll be unfair on my part," he says in a monotone making it hard for me to decode whatever he's thinking.

I didn't expect that Ryoma would be this smart. If I say no, everything I work for will be unraveled by him in no time. So for now, I guess I need to succumb in this ride.

" Yeah, of course. So, what challenge?" I ask suddenly feeling my hands getting clammy. I think I know what's coming. It's the Prince of Tennis I am challenging, for crying out loud.

" Well, beat me in a match. No, just give me a shot I can never return and you'll win. Deal?"

I gulp though my throat has gone dry.

" Deal."

* * *

><p>I asked that our match wouldn't be until tomorrow but he just had to say a big no. I was trying to buy some time for a practice. I would even be more willing to spend several hours training under the supervision of any Seigaku member. I'm certainly in a dire need of preparation, but my husband just won't give me the time.<p>

He doesn't like losing anyway. Yeah, I know.

Now here we are at our very own tennis court ready to play as the sun hurriedly goes down. The gentle pinkish orange radiance of the setting sun is teeming down on Ryoma's face, and I swear I fall in love with him again.

But I won't be distracted. I can't.

" God, Sakuno, until now you're still overwhelmed by my gorgeousness, aren't you?" I snap out of my fantasizing moment when I hear a glint of arrogance and satisfaction in his voice.

" No, I'm just amused by the sunset," I plainly reply. I can never lie to him anyway.

" Whatever. Go. Give me your best shot," he starts to adjust to a receiving stance while he waits for me to serve the ball with a spin he can never return.

I'm hoping for a magic, a miracle, more precisely.

I throw the ball upward as I acquire energy and ready to hit it with my racket. I can feel it. The sudden rush of blood and adrenaline. I can win this one.

…

Or maybe I can't. I miss the ball. He faintly laughs. The cycle repeats until his laugh becomes manic. So manic that he can actually roll over the court.

I've tried hitting the ball for an hour and a half but without evident success. I realize I'm panting and dead tired.

" You've still got hell to learn, Mrs. Echizen. Mada mada dane," he smiles mockingly and turns to walk away.

The nerve of that guy.

I follow him to our house and I remember it's time for me to cook our dinner. I actually have a compilation of different recipes hidden somewhere in the kitchen because I always see to it that when that guy comes back, I'll be able to cook something special for him. But not now, I'm too busy taking in what has just happened.

" So," he starts as he sees me staring off into space, " since I obviously won and you obviously lost, I have the honor to tell you what I want as my reward, right?"

" Yeah, sure," I reply as I blow my stray hair up.

" Let me cook for you. You've always been eating alone these past few months, and I feel so regretful for making you suffer like that," his voice has gone bitter.

" Ryoma, I never expected you could be that dramatic," I laugh, " It's not only me who was eating alone, right? You, too," I pause waiting for an answer which is really of no great concern.

To spice up the atmosphere, I add, " Or maybe not, Ryoma. You're seeing someone else, aren't you?"

" Even if you ditch me which I doubt will happen, I won't even think about replacing you with someone else. And…this wedding ring always reminds me that a certain girl who sucks at tennis is patiently waiting for me to come home. I can't break her heart, you know," he smiles at me.

" I know."

" Enough. Ready your taste buds. Because the next time I leave, you won't only miss me; you'll crave my cooking as well."

* * *

><p>For the following days, he rarely stays at home because he has his intensive practices. And when he gets home late in the evening, even without any complaint coming out from his mouth, I know he's always exhausted, and of course I attend to him. The date which I have been planning has momentarily left my mind because I don't want to tire him out even more.<p>

Days continuously pass by and we only have two weeks left before his flight. I'm weighing up the pros and cons of my asking him about the date. I'm pretty sure the cons are winning…but I just can't let this chance slip out of my hand.

The door creaks open. He's home. Finally.

He sprawls on the sofa with his eyes half-closed. He must be dead beat again.

" Ryoma, I've already cooked dinner. Come on. Or do you need me to get you anything? Coffee, juice, water?" I walk closer to the sofa where he lies and sits beside him.

" Oh…are you sleeping now?"

" Not…really," he groggily answers.

I figure this is the right time to break it to him.

" Ryoma, for how many years have you loved me now?" I look at him as he suddenly opens his eyes.

He sits up straight and quirks an eyebrow.

I chuckle lightly. I know he's treating this as a joke so I continue.

" I'm serious, Ryoma. I think I have to know," I tell him with my voice devoid of any expression.

" Well, if you insist but why do you have to count the years? It doesn't make any sense," he asks in a befuddled tone.

" It makes sense to me. Every little thing concerning you makes sense to me, you know. So, just answer the question, please,"

He heaves a sigh of defeat.

" Okay. I think it all started six years ago when I came back from America and I found you pretty dazzling that night of my homecoming celebration. And I started to bottle up whatever feelings I had because they were distracting me, and so on and so forth. So, yeah, six years," he hides away his face. I know he's blushing pastel of red.

" And so I win this challenge," I happily declare.

" Huh?"

" I've loved you ever since we were twelve. So, that's fifteen years. It's a nine-year difference, dude. So, I obviously win and you obviously lose," I stick out my tongue.

He's silent for a minute. His gaze never leaving me.

" And your reward is?" he finally asks.

" Date. Let's just go on a date before you leave and –"

I fail to finish my sentence for he quickly pull me into a tight embrace.

" I love you, Sakuno. I know these words will never be enough compared to the affection you've given me for fifteen long years. But if I have to repeat it all over again just to make you feel my ample love for you, I'll do it. You don't know how much joy you've brought me ever since you've been part of my life, and I'm very lucky to be the man you love. I'm so sorry for never having the chance to show you how grateful I am for having you here by my side. I'm so sorry for hating cheesy lines that I never even tell you how much I love you. Sakuno, I promise I'll love you forever and never will I ever make you cry," his voice is so cordial that it's successfully tugging at my heartstrings.

I break free from the hug to look at him.

" Ryoma, I think you've just said all the cheesiest lines in the whole world. Congratulations, you're now a certified cheesy line-maniac," I laugh as I pinch his cheeks.

" So we're going on a date?" I ask with so much anticipation building up inside me.

" No." I almost choke out.

" A woman like you doesn't deserve a date. You deserve more than that. We're going to Paris and we're gonna be having our second honeymoon there," he smirks as he cages me in his arms once more.

I blush madly. Second honeymoon? Paris. That's just so wow. We only spent our first honeymoon in a hotel because he had tournaments scheduled for that month of June.

Suddenly it hits me. He'll have another tournament two weeks from now.

" Hey, wait. You're gonna be having a tournament, right? You know we can just cancel this and put it off for another time."

"I don't care. Being with you is more important than winning millions of tennis tournaments. Anyway, what I need is a Sakuno not a racket."

* * *

><p><strong>Lazy as I am, I didn't check the grammar and punctuation marks. But I definitely will, next time. Just have to get over this depression. Leave reviews, please? <strong>

**Plugging my story mentioned above /s/6863193/1/Gesture_of_Reassurance**


End file.
